


Far away, not long ago

by Talvi



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Pederasty, Pedophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22654387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talvi/pseuds/Talvi
Summary: PLEASE READ THIS AND THE TAGSSherlock goes to Malaysia for a case. John fears he's up to something else, he had been keeping the secret of his friend relapsing into drugs months ago, rescuing him from different hells over and over again. The detective is sure he has EVERYTHING under control, but things get out off his hands sooner than expected. He dissappears from Mycroft's radar in the middle of a country where no one knows him. Suddenly, he doesn't even knows himself anymore, but the charming part of his blue eyes that can get away with anything.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. This better be a 9

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. I'll tell you NOW.  
> Sherlock, eventually, will become a child abuser.  
> I'm not ok with child abuse in ANY way.  
> This is a work of fiction inspired in the several horrible cases of people taking advantage of poor villages and families to abuse children.

Well it all started just like a regular-weird-not-so-normal case that was promising to be a 9. According to Mycroft. And it was just what Sherlock needed. What he had needed for a long time. According to John’s personal journal, his friend’s schedule had been a mess for over 6 months. And for the same amount of time, the doctor had been trying to figure out what was happening inside the other’s mind. Well, it was a huge place to look, but he could always try during those nights watching sitcoms and eating popcorn, a new habit the detective had developed. Now he was going far far away. Had Sherlock been to that part of the world ever? He was almost 35 years old and for all John knew, had always been more of a stay-at-London type of person, but, who knows, maybe he did travel way abroad on his early years. Or maybe he was just in school for twenty years and came out with that blue scarf out of the most posh store in the city. Who knows. How can anyone know about him?

The hardest part for Sherlock was to tell John that he was going alone, really. 

‘It’ll be just a couple weeks’

‘In Malaysia…”

‘Yeah, so?’

‘Do you, like, know anything about that place?’

‘What’s there to know? Local Police had been contacted, I’ll work with them and that’s it’

‘With them? Or they’ll work for you’

‘Nice re-phrased, Doctor; glad to know you’re learning’

“Brother, the taxi is waiting, you are going to miss you plane” said that bitterly monotonous voice somewhere in the distance in Sherlock’s mind.

As he was walking down the stairs of 221B Baker Street, putting his scarf on, John’s hand took his from behind, knowing he won’t see those blue eyes in a long time. Too long. Weeks that could turn into months and then…shut up, John, stop thinking.

“Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself. I’d tell you not to get in trouble but…”

“You already know me far too well John.” They both let go a small chuckle “Don’t worry ok, I’ll call you as many times I can, or remember. Don’t worry much. Get yourself a hobbie, ok?”

“You arse”

*

Whatever hours later Sherlock woke up still on the stupid first class yet. His brother was sitting in the luxurious arm chair next to his.

“Hey you. Mycroft!”

“What” replied the older without picking up his eyes from his cellphone screen

“Do you mind telling me what in the name of hell am I going to be doing THERE?”

“It’s none of your business”

“Well, it’ll be in a matter of hours, and it just came down to me that you’re putting me into…” here he lifted his hand showing two fingers “A really dangerous situation in the middle of the most horrible part of a country I know nothing how about…”

“How could you know nothing about Malaysia? It’s a country in Southeast Asia that..."

“I ALREADY KNOW THAT!”

“Brother mine… before I spoke to you about this we haven’t spoken in months… is there something…I need to know?”

“Shut up”

“What was the second option?”

“Oh Yes…” Sherlock said, leaving now up only his middle finger “You’re putting me up for some really boring governmental duty that I will hate with all my willpower”

“Then what did you accept it?”

Sherlock looked out the plane window, to the ocean, clearly avoiding the question.

“Sherlock?”

“John and I need the money”

“What for?”

“Gentleman, we just about to land on Kuala Lumpur’s airport, so we ask you to follow the instructions given to…”

Sherlock didn’t hear anything from then on. The last thing he heard before getting into his hotel room was.

“I’ll knock on your door at 6 am. Be ready.”

“There better have cheap and good drugs on this place”

“Brother, don’t…”

And he shot down the door in front of Mycroft’s face, nothing out of the usual so far.


	2. I knnow exactly where I'm going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Sherlock lied when he said he knew NOTHING of Malaysia...

As everything in Sherlock’s was expected, the stupid job was indeed stupid. He went with Mycroft to the meeting with whomever important senator that guy was. “No, I’m not wearing a suit, stop it!” and there he found out that he was going to be something like a stupid bodyguard with an over the budget salary for just keeping an eye on someone whom received a couple of death threats"

"We get those every day, brother, you’re really trying to convince me of this?”

“I’m not convincing you of anything, you’ve already accepted the job, don’t you remember?”

“I asked you in the plane if…”

“You want to come back to London without a single penny? I’m sorry, but, what kind of debts does Doctor Watson and you have? For what I can recall, he’s a very austere man with no interest in luxurious OR opulent… services.”

“Shut up, I need to babysit some guy and, apparently, I’m going to need all my brain power in order to do that.”

Definitely he was going out for a kick. As far as it concerned Sherlock, the more expensive the cocaine, the better the kick and the more pleasant the aftermath. But, right now, he had scarcely any money on his (just what Mycroft had given him “for emergencies” since every other mundane expense was covered with credit card) so he would have to do it in the old less fashionable way. He looked at his phone. He had received every instruction to what his new job included, following this senator, making sure that this or that mafia guy was not around, looking out for obvious threats like snipers or what?kamikazes? He basically lost interest after fifteen minutes. Now, he had two hours free before he had to arrive to the parliament to walk with this man to another stupid meeting. Mycroft told him to use that time to get a coffee, hence the money in his pocket. Before leaving Baker Street he emptied his stash under the fireplace and, he had to admit it, stole from John’s. He would be pissed out, but there’s nothing he could do anymore and the doctor knew it.

*

-Some time ago-

_“Sherlock you have to stop”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because it’s hurting you”_

_“It’s not! I wake up, I respond to Lestrade calls, I do my job, I’m nice to the only person I care in the world and then I keep on every day. Now tell me, HOW is that me being hurt?”_

_“You know what I mean… remember two nights ago? How on earth did you manage that day to still have your phone with you and call me? You were wrecked, if someone else would have found you…”_

_“But YOU found me. As I say, there’s only one person that keeps me on my toes now. And that’s how it’s going to be for a while.”_

_“A while?”_

_“I’m not going to rehab. Period.”_

_“We don’t even have food in our fridge anymore. I won’t pretend anymore that you aren’t stealing all the money we had for groceries and even our savings. We cannot keep going…”_

_“John. You found out I relapsed six months ago. I hold it dear in my heart the fact that you keep this secret between us since, again, I’m not hurting anyone. As for the money… I’ll make it up to you, ok? I will take more cases, I can actually charge Lestrade for the cases…”_

_“Sherlock…at least… are you…being safe?”_

_“How can you doubt that?”_

_“I’ve found you passed out in horrible places. Surrounded by the worst scum on earth.”_

_“I do pay attention and take care of everything that…”_

_“Sherlock? Are you doing something else…besides cocaine?”_

_The detective went to his bedroom followed by John and he actually showed him everything. Not only the usual syringes but the white powder he had been sniffing for at least eight weeks, and then the different pills, the colored ones in a very small bag, but a bigger jar for the white tablets._

_“This is it?”_

_“_ _I may have something to drink on those nights too…Just, people pay me drinks you know?”_

_Once John wanted to go with him. Just to keep an eye. “You can do whatever you want, I won’t stop you, just..” But Sherlock declined over and over again. Somehow, John was always contacted directly by Sherlock’s phone and he would get up, and find him, whoever he had to fight with, it didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered was that the detective woke up safe the next day. John had given up on trying Sherlock to stop the drugs, but he trusted that on one side the detectivewas smart enough to control himself and, that he knew that he could trust John. So now Sherlock did not only carry his smart phone, but a very old fashioned Nokia AND a tiny tracker on his shoe. There was no way John would lose him, stupid as it sounded. John also didn’t push on the event that triggered Sherlock’s relapse, he just went with it. For months. And now Sherlock was going to be miles and miles away and he couldn’t actually tell Mycroft WHY he was refusing to let the detective go by himself to a foreign country where he was going to have access to even more terrible things probably. So he let him go. After making Sherlock promise several things he knew the other wouldn’t keep._

*

Sherlock knew exactly what neighborhood he should go to and how he should act. He was a detective after all and had done his research. He lied to Mycroft about not knowing where they were going. Of course he knew. And he had actually contacted the dealers. Of everything he needed. He walked out of the main town. Downtown there we go. He walked through streets of dirt, and this was exactly why he insisted on not wearing a suit that morning, this way, he was the foreigner, the white guy there, but at least not the rich white guy, just the regular one. He walked almost half an hour to a very poor place, a few houses stood up there in the mud, half naked children of various aged playing around. He knocked at the door he knew he had to. A half-naked young man looked at him. Sherlock showed him the money and the man gave him the bag with powder. This was going to be probably the worst cocaine he had ever had but he couldn’t do better right now. He thanked with a head movement and walked away. A young boy around 5 years old walked to him and offered him a flower in exchanged for some money. Sherlock gave him a dollar and walked away. No. Not now, shut up. Not now. “This is not why we are here”. Said a voice in his head. He took the small bag, put it in his pocket and walked away. A few minutes later, he went into the bathroom of a really bad restaurant and sniffed the last he had of the cocaine he had from England. The thing he bought here wasn’t going to be as nearly as good. No that he couldn’t get it, but two things got in the middle: he didn’t have as much money with him for that, and if he went to the bigger dealers, Mycroft would found out. So he had to stay in the streets. And that meant not knowing what else will be he sniffing. He had to find out. He went to do his job in a kind of nice mind-state. And that’s how he spent two weeks of his new job. Every once in a while he went in for a small bag of white powder; he gave the children a few bucks and sniffed a couple lines on his way back to the hotel. That was how it went: a bit in the morning and a bit in the evening.

It was there when it all started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, thins are going to start to become... yeah. sorry.


	3. Don't complain, I'm doing my job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft can't complain, Sherlock has been doing his job.  
> So he deserves a night off, right?

After the fourth time he visited the village, the children started to recognize him. “English man! English man!” they yelled happily, running to and jumping around him. At first he was reluctant, but then he started to lose his nervousness, sure he will be able to behave in front of some children and their families. He know not only visited the small place to buy cocaine, but he was invited for meals with some families as they knew he would usually leave some money and expensive clothes that Mycroft kept buying for him, and that they could later sell. This actually made him feel better and he accepted every invitation. He was now eating way more than he ever did back on The UK.

Mycroft asked questions that he never answered as he obviously kept doing his job perfectly.

“I just want to know, brother, in what amusements you are mh… using your free time. I can provide you anything you need and yet you refuse my help and decide to walk away the city, to some lost village where there is not even wifi or phone signal, Sherlock, should I be worried?”

“Don’t I come back every night to the hotel room and I’m ready the next morning for your boring tasks?”

“Well, yes, my client cannot complain, but…”

“But nothing. I’m doing my job and the rest is none of your business.”

So Mycroft did not ask anymore. He barely spoke to him the next few days, so when he had a free weekend Sherlock decided it was time to give green light to his plan.

***

_\- Sherlock didn’t want John to know his secret in that way. Well, he didn’t want him to find out in any way, never. But when he walked into the living room and saw John holding THAT laptop open, not his regular laptop, but another one he had, usually hidden in his room, he went breathless for a second, how could he had been so clueless and left it on the living room? He couldn’t even get himself to move and take that away from John’s hands. The doctor looked at him, the laptop open on his lap._

_“_ _Sherlock? What…I mean… WHY do you have this open? Please tell me is for a case.”_

_“_ _A… c-case, yes.” well, he didn’t sound sure at all, and John, above all people knew how to read him_

_“Sherlock… there’re over a hundred videos, maybe a thousand pictures…” he closed the laptop and stood looking at his friend “Sherlock. Is this ehm…material, for a case?”_

_Sherlock looked down and ran a hand through his hair. Lying was pointless, as he couldn’t lie to John. But admitting it out loud to someone was going to be way more difficult. And risky. He knew, but he had to do it._

_“John…sit down.” he said as he crossed the room and sat on his chair, waiting for John to do the same. “I will need you to turn off the wifi signal of your phone” he said as he did the same “You know, I’ll better..” he added getting up again and walking to turn off the wifi router. “That’s better.”_

_“Sherlock? What…?” said John sitting on his chair_

_“John… Those ehm… material… they weren’t for… a case.” John hold his breath and felt the tension in the air. If it weren’t for a case, then the other option was just terrible for him to bear. “John, that material is… mine.”_

_That awful and dreadful silence felt like a dagger to Sherlock. The look on John’s eyes was impossible for him to read and it was killing him. His most private secret was now known to one living person, and the most important person in his life. He swallowed and waited. For seconds that seemed like hours. He waited for John to leave him, to call the police, to hand him to be imprisoned for life. Because that was what he deserved. He was a monster. He was the worst of the worst and he deserved to be left alone in a cell to die._

_“Sherlock. You mean to tell me that you have…you have….”_

_“Child pornography, John. It’s just what it is. And yes, it’s mine. For my uhm..” he didn’t dare to say ‘entertainment’, he knew it was implied._

_“How long…? Have you ever…?”_

_“Since I was a teenager. I have never touched a child inappropriately.” Silence again. John looked away from Sherlock, as if he was processing the information. As if there was another outcome of this that didn’t end up with Sherlock confessing to the MI5 or, worst, to Mycroft._

_“This is why you were never… interested in… others… sexually.”_

_Sherlock just nodded and looked at John. “John, I would never hurt a child, never I would even try to..”_

_“No, Sherlock, I believe you. I do. But this…” he said pointing to where the laptop was now “This is a problem too. You need to stop watching those…things. You know out there are children who are being exploited for you to… have access to this kind of…” he had to stop talking there as he felt rage growing inside of him. He wasn’t angry at Sherlock, he did believe what he said, and he understood it wasn’t really his fault, to have these attractions, but he had to make him stop consuming._

_“Yes. Yes, John, I know. You’re right. I will stop. I have to get rid of that computer, destroy so it can’t be tracked. And after that, I give you my word, I will stop consuming it.”_

_John believed him. Sherlock did stop consuming child pornography._

_John understood then why Sherlock started doing cocaine._

_He hoped that with his help, Sherlock would be better, having someone to trust his darkest secret. He just hoped that, once again, he could save Sherlock._

***

_-_

Sherlock arrived at the village while the sun was setting. He walked into the small wooden house he knew well by now; the woman welcomed him with her broken English and thanked him for a new dress he had bought specially for her. He held her younger child, a baby of 4 months while she finished cooking. He didn’t care for babies, so he just made him play with his fingers. He grabbed his phone and turned it off, leaving it on a high shelf by the dining room. And there it was, the reason why he decided to come by this house first.

“English man!” yelled a high pitched voice

“I did tell you to call me Sherlock” he answered smiling to the 7 years old in front of him.

“Sherlock, sir” the boy said, accustomed to have his manners around the foreigners. He sat in the free leg of Sherlock’s lap and played with his locks “Are you staying for dinner, sir?”

“Well, your mother invited me to stay until tomorrow, how does that sound?”

The kid’s face shone up in delight. “Yes! So we can play and I can show you several games, sir!”

Sherlock smiled and sat silent for a second before the woman came into the room with everyone’s plates. They ate stew that night, and, as it was stipulated, Sherlock took his small bag of clothes to the boy’s room.

Rayyan, as that was his name, was beyond excited to have the friendly foreigner stay with him overnight and, even though his mother advised him not to stay up late, he would try to push back his sleep time just to know more of his friend and play more.

After saying good night, everyone went up to their rooms and Sherlock sat in his bed, next to Rayyan’s one and took out something of his bag

“I’ve got something for you. Just a… little present” he said as he showed up a new pair of pajamas, in light blue and yellow, with pictures of animals, just the size of the boy, who started jumping on the bed in delight.

“Can I use it?”

“Well yes, here, let me… help you.” said Sherlock as he just went ahead and took off the boy’s clothes, leaving him in underwear. He then put the pajamas on and helped him to bed. “Hey Rayyan, I have an idea, if you don’t mind… why if I sleep in your bed with you tonight? just so we can… talk and play little games and your mom won’t wake up?” The little boy’s eyes sparkle with joy as he made room for Sherlock to lay with him. “Lets just… not tell anyone about this sleepover, ok? It’s going to be our little secret”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't put anything too explicit, but in upcoming chapters more of this will happen


	4. I'm not like...them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock comes back to his job but he's left alone with his thoughts.

Sherlock spent Sunday doing cocaine with the locals and playing with the children. Rayyan was delighted to tell everyone that the foreigner had chosen his place to stay in the night, and his mother was very much glad too. The boy often came and sat on Sherlock’s lap and he would tickle him for a few minutes before sending him off with a “the adults are talking now”. 

The detective came back to his hotel room in the center of Kuala Lumpur by Sunday evening and turned on his phone. Just a minute later, Mycroft was waiting for him at the lobby. Sherlock took a well-deserved shower and down he went, dressed in his best suit.

“Where were you?”

“Taking a shower”

“I mean it, Sherlock. You disappeared on Saturday morning.”

“I’m back, aren’t I?”

“This time”

They finished the rest of the tea in silence.

“Time for bed. You work tomorrow early morning”

“Oh right! The boring guy who needs a nanny”

“Stop it, he’s paying for all the drugs you’re, for sure, putting on your system.”

They left early the next morning and Sherlock intercepted someone who was for sure only trying to mug them, but everyone saw that as an attempt to protect the senator and he was praised over and over again. The only good thing coming from that is that he got even more money than what was his payment of the day. That night he went to a store and bought some things he would surely need, mostly toys and clothes, for children and adults; after all, he was getting bored of his job on the city.

He almost didn’t show up for work on Tuesday morning, as high on cocaine as he was, so he claimed to had caught a soft virus and asked for a day off. Mycroft looked at him with hate on his eyes, but couldn’t do anything when his employer actually told Sherlock to take at least two days.

“Please tell me you’re buying quality drugs and not sharing needles”

“What? do you think I’m 19?”

“No, I think you are you. And I know you, and you don’t know anyone on this country”

“Oh yes, the sociopath who cannot make connections.”

“You claim to be that, I never said it. Anyway, I could… put you in contact with ehm… people who, at least, sell a good product.”

“Are you telling me you’ll be willing to put me in contact with drug dealers, no wait… elite drug dealers just so I can keep doing this stupid job?”

“And if you promise to stay in Kuala Lumpur during your free days”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve been informed that you go on… walks towards the… outsides of the city, where the poor villages are located. What is your deal with that?”

“I don’t have a deal with any of that, I just happen to enjoy the peace and quiet”

“And cheap drugs.”

Sherlock chuckled and took a sip of his tea. “Shut up. To be honest, I had developed a good taste for the nature life on this place, I do find it amusing. Also, it is truth that I’ve talked to the locals. They are nice.”

“You are hiding something, brother. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I will take all precautions, don’t worry.”

“That’s easy for you to say, but after so many years, Sherlock, you know I can’t trust you anymore. No one can. And no one will.”

That night Sherlock actually cried in his bedroom. He wasn’t even high, he somehow wanted to be conscious of the damage he had done in just a few weeks. During the time he had been in Malaysia, he kept in touch with John almost daily, assuring him everything was okay and under control, when the truth was that he didn’t tell his friend about the drugs in the first place and, actually he was constantly lying to him about the places he had been and, most importantly, about his intentions there. 

At 2 am he was lying in bed, just staring at the white ceiling when the smile of that 7 years old boy came to his mind, the day the spent together, and suddenly all the memories of that night with the child, just the two of them with the dim light of the moon on the small room. His mind wandered to the specific things that happened and that he thought would never happen in his life but there he was, he had done it and the way he was now remembering the feelings of his skin against the other just drove him into the most private place of his mind palace, as his right hand found its way under his pajama bottoms. From all the time he spent consuming child pornography, he never actually imagined himself being the perpetrator of it. During that night, he kept thinking that he wasn’t like those people, that he was different, that what he was doing would not cause any damage nor even a trauma, he was being gentle, loving, and the way the boy behaved around him the next day, like nothing bad had happened, definitely confirmed that idea. With the ghost touch of smaller hands on him, he only lasted a few minutes and felt the release of it but it didn’t pass one second that guilt crashed over him like a wall falling on his chest. He was crying again, panicking now knowing that he had finally done the only thing he promised himself he would never do, under any circumstance. What made the panic worse was knowing that he wanted to do it again and that there was actually nothing to stop him, he was alone in a foreign place, and just a taxi ride from a place where everyone trusted him just for being different and that he had gained that trust with his charm, but with the worst intentions in mind. Still sobbing, he got up and changed his pajamas and cleaned himself. He came back and took off the right amount of drugs that he knew would lead to an overdose. He placed it on the pillow and lied down next to it. 

He saw the boy, Rayyan’s face on his mind. He saw John’s face on his mind. If there was a moment to stop, this was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writting this...is hard. Sherlock is a character I hold dear in my heart but when I imagined this story I knew he was the one.  
> .  
> I just hope things won't get worse for him.  
> .  
> But they will.


End file.
